


All I need is you

by Stydiatrash



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dead Castiel, Fluff, Heartbreak, Heartbroken Dean, Heavy Angst, Hurt Dean Winchester, Worried Sam Winchester, castiel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-07 11:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11622597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stydiatrash/pseuds/Stydiatrash
Summary: Castiel is dead. Sam and Dean are struggling to cope with their loss, especially since Dean and Cas had just begun their relationship. Sam tries to take care of his brother, but he knows he spiraling out of control. Desperately trying to find a way to bring his angel back, Dean forgets to take care of himself. Heavy Angst. Read at your own will:)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This picks up at the end of Season 12 and continues after. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1  
Seeing Cas, like that, his face void of color and those ocean eyes that Dean loved so much empty, broke everything in him. He couldn't breathe, even when Sam appeared at his side, slipping a arm around him.  
Maybe Cas wasn’t actually dead, but Dean was told otherwise when he started to feel the burn from Cas’ wings sting his body. He pulled his shirt up to reveal the shape of his wings etched into his skin. It seemed surreal that something so beautiful was able to cause him so much pain.  
For a while, Sam watched Dean as he stayed by the dead angels side. He couldn't bring himself to make him leave, not yet. He knew how much Cas meant to his older brother, even if it took several years for them to finally admit their feelings. Maybe that’s what bothered Sam the most, that Cas and Dean had so little time together. It couldn’t have been more than a few weeks since they made things “official” ,and it hurt to look at Dean and realize that he may never fully get over this.  
It was when Dean began whispering to Cas’ body that Sam decided it was time to go. He moved his hand to his brother’s shoulder, in an attempt to gain his attention.  
“Dean, we need to go.I’m so sorry, man.” He whispered gently, careful not to sound like he was rushing him.  
“No, I can’t leave him alone Sammy. I just can’t” Dean’s eyes filled with tears, and for once he welcomed them.  
“He’s gone, Dean. I’m sorry, but I don’t think he’s coming back this time.” Sam’s voice was shaky. It’s hard to imagine him gone.  
“Take that back! You don’t get to say that, Sammy. Not you. I will bring him back. I’m bringing my angel back, I have to. I can’t live without him. ” Dean cried out, his voice completely broken, just like he was. He turned away from Sam.  
Sam just sighed and stood up. They needed to get back to the bunker. He knew Dean would put up a fight, and he didn't want to upset him even more.  
Without warning, Sam used his strength, and managed to lift Dean to his feet. With one arm around his waist and the other over holding one of Dean’s arms over his shoulder, they made it to the Impala. Knowing he wasn’t safe to drive, Sam sat Dean into the passenger seat. Closing the door behind him, Sam returned to Cas, and successfully placed him in the back seat.  
The drive back to the closest thing they’d ever known to home was quiet. Dean kept staring out the window at nothing, and every once in a while, he would wipe away an unwanted tear. Sam drove as fast as he could, wanting nothing more than for the nights’ events to be a dream.  
Dean tried to shut his mind off while Sam drove next to him. He was failing miserably. Every moment, every encounter, every memory he had with Cas flashed in front of his eyes as he watched the road disappear behind him. He was hoping that being at the bunker would sooth him, but as Sam parked Baby in the garage, Dean realized how wrong he was. 

 

 

It’s been two days. Two days since Cas, his angel, the love of his life, has been gone. Dean hasn't slept an ounce, trading in his routine four hours for his head buried in every lore book the Men of Letters have, only taking breaks to refill his coffee or to go to the bathroom.  
Sam tried everything to get Dean to eat something or to nap, but he wasn't having it. He knew if Dean kept this up, he’d be dead sooner rather than later, and he can't loose both of his brothers. It worried him to see Dean like this, franticly searching for a way to bring Cas back. Demons were out of the question, and the angels weren’t exactly known for doing them any favors.  
The Winchester’s have lost everyone they’ve loved, at some point or another, but Cas’ death hit them the hardest. Besides the whole “no eating or sleeping until Cas is back thing”, Sam noticed his brother was not ok, even when he insisted he was.  
He noticed how the little light that was left in Dean’s emerald eyes were now gone and how his hands constantly shake. Dean barely spoke, and when he did, it was barely above a whisper.  
Dean wasn’t the only one struggling though. Sam would wake panting and dripping in sweat from nightmares whenever he would doze off. He had a hard time looking at his brother, because every time he did, the thought of him not having Cas by his side which caused the ache in his chest to become unbearable.  
Finally, nearly a week after that horrific night, Sam discovered Dean passed out on top of a book. Sam silently thanked God, and tapped his shoulder.  
“Dean, hey buddy, let’s get you to your bed, huh?” He said when Dean awoke.  
“Okay, Sammy” Dean replied, his voice groggy, while Sam helped him to his room.  
Dean fell onto the mattress, and instinctively reached out to the empty side of his bed. He was asleep within seconds, reaching for someone who would never be there again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry in advance for this chapter! It probably sucks and is short. Go easy on me, this is my first angsty Destiel fic, so I'm learning as I go!

Dean awoke the next morning, feeling worse than when he fell asleep. He’d grown used to sharing a bed with his angel, and without him there it felt empty. Dean longed to drape his arm over Cas’ body and pull him close enough so his back was against his chest. He missed Cas hogging all of the covers, and how he would shift so his face was buried in the crook of Dean’s neck, inhaling him with every breath.  
He stayed in bed a few minutes longer, emerging himself in the feelings his memories with Cas brought him. Wave after wave, he let each one crash into him, but trying to avoid the current threatening to pull him under.  
After making his morning cup of coffee, Sam walks into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and sporting his usual untamed mane.  
“ Morning, Sammy.” Dean mutters, and hands him a fresh cup, just how he likes it.  
“Mornin’, how’d you sleep?” He asks, trying to keep the conversation light.  
“ Eh, how about you?” Dean responded.  
“ About the same. Do you want to talk about it?” Sam spoke while Dean moved to look for his keys.  
“ Maybe later, Sam. I’m gonna run and fetch us some grub. Want anything?” Dean looked at his keys triumphantly when he found them.  
“Yea, thanks man. Be safe.” Dean nodded, and headed to the garage.  
Sliding into the driver’s side of Baby, Dean was engrossed in the comfort of his car. After turning the key in the ignition, and hearing Baby roar to life, he placed his shaking hands on the steering wheel. He felt good, driving again.  
With the help of the sound of Baby’s engine, and the first meal he's had in days, Dean noted how his focus changed. It wasn't drastic, but he was able to finally concentrate on something other than Cas being gone. The rest of the way back to the bunker was silent, mostly because Dean couldn't bring himself to play any music.  
Sam smiled as Dean handed him his breakfast sandwich. Dean nodded and retreated to his room again. He needed to be alone, and he hated the sympathy that practically radiated off his brother whenever he was around.  
Shutting the door after him, Dean changed out of his jeans and flannel, replacing them with sweatpants and one of Cas’ hoodies, hoping he would feel closer to the angel. He hadn't let himself break down, let alone cry, since the night it happened. Cas’ sweatshirt sent his emotions into overdrive, forcing him into reality.  
His thoughts were incessant. At this point, he’s read every book about angels, and he knew he was avoiding the truth. Cas’ wings were burned behind his body, for God’s sake onto him. He knew what it meant.  
That tore him apart, all over again. They’ve had some close calls with Cas before, but there was no avoiding Death this time, and deep down Dean knew it. He let his tears fall, not bothering to wipe them before they hit the floor. Everything in him was hurting, no, aching for his angel. Aching for his touch, to see that rare grin that he cherished so much.  
Sobs left his mouth as he picked up one of the few picture frames in his room. It was of him and Cas. They were sitting on the front of the Impala. It was after he’d been a demon, and they’d decided to spend a few days at the beach. With the ocean behind them, he remembers Sam sitting on the roof and taking the photo of the pair. They weren't holding hands, or kissing, or even a couple at the time. Just sitting and taking in their surroundings, enjoying each other’s company in silence.  
Dean’s chest began to fill with rage. It wasn't fair. Why did they have to take his Castiel. Without thinking, he launched the frame at the wall and watched as the glass shattered. Failing to quench the fire building inside him, he attacked anything he could, destroying everything in his wake.  
When nothing was left to brake, he let out another wail, and sank against the wall with the shattered glass. Dean pulled his knees in tight, afraid to let go. The hunter mourned for his Cas. He mourned for every moment they shared together. He mourned for every secret, every kiss, every hushed tone Cas shared with him. Most of all he cried for the loss of the time together they were cheated of . There would be no more sharing his bed or showing Cas new music. No more waking up to Cas’ bed head ,or “Good morning, Sunshine”. He felt the weight of it all, hollowing him out until nothing was left.  
At some point, Dean stopped crying, but he couldn't remember when. From what he could tell, he’d passed out from exhaustion , and Sam, bless him, came in to check on him. He must have cleaned up the mess, because he sure as hell didn’t.  
Completely drained from his episode, Dean ventured into the kitchen for a drink. He downed his first glass of whiskey in record time, and immediately began filling a second. Deciding he was going to need more, Dean took the whole bottle with him. Opting for the main area for the bunker instead of his bed, he made himself comfortable. He resumed his search for a way to save Cas, but he didn't know why he was even trying.  
Sam joined him, but Dean wasn’t really sure when. Now way past drunk and an almost full bottle of whiskey later, the heaviness in his chest felt significantly lighter. He knew it was the alcohol, but he couldn't deny it felt nice to have some relief.  
“Ya know, wouldn’t it be great if I could just kiss him, and he’d wake up? Like in those princess movies from when we were kids.” Dean’s words are slurred.  
“ Yea, it would Dean.” Sam responds.  
“ I bet it would work. The whole, “true love’s kiss” thing. “ Dean takes another swig of his drink after saying this. Sam just shakes his head.  
“ Dean, there's no bringing him back. We’ve searched and searched and we have bupkis.” Sam quietly says, not able to meet Dean’s eyes.  
Dean doesn't comment. In his drunken state, he has no idea what to think. On one hand, he’s well aware of what Cas’ wings being singed into the ground meant, but he couldn't help but hope that he would get him back, even if it was the tiniest slip of hope.


End file.
